The Third Time
by archard-winchester
Summary: Dean had been in this situation twice before in his life and been let down each time. Hopefully, third time was the charm. Set between 6x06 and 6x07.


**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: Dean had been in this situation twice before in his life and been let down each time. Hopefully, third time was the charm. Set between 6x06 and 6x07.

**A/N**: My idea of what was going through Dean's mind between beating Sam to pulp and finding out that he was soulless.

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Once Sam was secured to the chair, Dean took out an icepack from the refrigerator and put it on his bruised hand. It was nowhere near as bad as Sam would be when he woke up.

"Cas, c'mon." Dean said quietly to himself. "Get your ass down here right now."

No response. Dean didn't know why he was expecting anything else. Frustrated, he walked over to Sam and slapped him across the face. Sam groaned but did not regain consciousness, making Dean feel slightly guilty about beating up his brother.

No, not his brother, Dean told himself. Whatever this thing was, it was not Sam. Dean Winchester knew his brother better than anyone else in the world and he had seen through this thing's pretense the moment he had met it, even though he had deluded himself for as long as he could.

He should just kill it now, Dean thought. Kill it and be done with it. But not before making it suffer. Not before making it pay for bringing down Dean's world again. His brother, his Sammy, had given up his life saving the world and if some creature thought that it could defile his memory by pretending to be him, well Dean would show him exactly what he had learnt in hell. But for some reason, he had felt that it was necessary to confirm that it wasn't Sam.

Dena knew his brother well enough to recognize some part of him in this – thing. It had clearly taken Sam's memories. It had all of Sam's little quirks, his geekiness, his focus, his dedication the job at hand. It even had Sam's crappy taste in music and his sense of humor. But that wasn't it. Dean knew well enough that there were things in the world that could mimic all that and it wouldn't have been enough to convince him that this thing was Sam. The reason Dean had let himself be convinced that it was Sam was because of its trust in Dean. Sam had always trusted his brother to look out for him and for some reason, so did this thing.

Dean also knew that one thing Sam was always afraid of was losing Dean. Not physically, but emotionally. That fear was the source of all of Sam's secrets and lies. In his eyes, Dean had set impossible standards of right and wrong and Sam was always scared of falling short of them. That was why he had tried to keep his visions a secret. That was why he had concealed the truth about the demon blood in his system and his association with Ruby. That was he had lied about drinking demon blood. He had always been afraid that he would lose Dean's respect and support, that he would lose Dean's love, if the truth ever came to light. Dean had given up on convincing Sam that his love was unconditional, that Sam didn't have to try to be anything other than himself for Dean to love him. Dean could remember the quiet fear in Sam's eyes when he had wandered close to truth, as if begging Dean, _don't go there. You won't love me anymore if you do._ He could remember the steel that entered Sam's eyes when Dean did discover the truth, as if daring Dean to judge him, to love him any less. And he could remember the naked despair after the judgment was passed, like when he had found out about the demon blood or when he had found Sam after releasing Lucifer. It had always been a desperate cry for help, the need for Dean to be a big brother and fix him and the trust that Dean would not let him down. And he had seen the same thing in this creature that looked like Sam.

This not-Sam's fears had felt so similar to Sam's. It had tried to convince Dean that he was still his little brother, that he was still Sammy, although a little rough around the edges, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with time. And Dean had convinced himself that it was just Sam being Sam, him being afraid of what Dean would think, that Dean would look at him differently and so he had let it go. But tonight had convinced him otherwise. Even if he could ignore Veritas's words, ignore the absence of any effect she had on him, Dean could not ignore what he had known his whole life. He had seen the desperation and fear of judgment too many times in Sam's eyes not to realize that what he had seen was anything but a poor copy. This Sam didn't really care what Dean thought of him. It had been lying, trying to manipulate Dean into sparing its life, but Dean wasn't fooled. Its desperate plea for help had been nothing more than a bid for survival. And right now, Dean could care less if this creature lived or died. All he cared about was his brother.

His brother. All the fear and sorrow and desperation that had become muted over the year came rushing back to him. His brother was in hell. Sometime during the year, Dean had given up hope that he would ever be reunited with Sam, in this life or the afterlife. His brother was in hell for eternity and there was nothing he could do to change that. This thing coming into his life had given him hope again. Hope that he could have Sam by his side once more. And he wasn't ready to give up on that. He wasn't ready to give up on Sam once again.

Dean didn't even try to hold back the tear that escaped his eye. He had felt like this twice before, so helpless and powerless. Both times he had been worried about Sam, worried what was happening to his brother and worried that he wouldn't be able to do anything. Both times he had put his faith in something, someone stronger and bigger than him and both times he had been let down.

"I feel like I'm repeating myself." Dean said to the room. "Cas, you are the only one who can help me here. There is something pretending to be Sam with me and my real brother is in hell. I don't know what to do. I don't know whether to kill this thing, because if it does turn out to be Sam, I'd have sent my own brother to hell. But if it isn't Sam, then – then" Dean wiped his eyes. "Cas, I'm begging for help here. I've only begged for help twice before in my life. The first time it was from my Dad, the second was from yours. And they let me down, both of them. Please Cas, don't be like them, don't make me handle this alone. I don't think I can."

A comforting hand appeared on Dean's shoulder as he silently let out a breath of relief.

"Don't worry Dean." Castiel said, walking over to Sam. "We will figure out what is wrong with your brother."

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That's all. Review if you like it.


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